Sir Thomas berates Fanny: a parody
by HasEveryPenNameBeenTaken
Summary: The East Room confrontation after Henry's proposal. Only I tried to make it funny.  Or at least snarky.  There is also a guest appearance from another novel.


Disclaimer: I am not Jane Austen, but her works are public property, and therefore I can mutilate them. Mwahaha. I'm not making profit, though.

SIR THOMAS:

Child, I have come to speak to you on an affair of importance.

(Pats FANNY'S head)

Wait, why don't you have fire?

FANNY:

I, er…

SIR THOMAS:

Who gave orders for this?

FANNY:

I don't really… I don't think this is a good idea… it's not my place to… Aunt Norris.

SIR THOMAS:

(aside)

Crazy old bat.

(to FANNY)

Your aunt was right, except she was wrong. She must have respect, for some reason no one in the novel has exactly understood. However, from now on you shall have fire.

FANNY:

Thanks a bunch.

SIR THOMAS:

Right, let's get to the point then. Mr Crawford came to see me this morning. He told me everything. I give you joy, my dear niece. You will be very happy, and your children will be quite like my own grandchildren.

FANNY:

What?

SIR THOMAS:

Come, come, no need to be shy about it. Mr Crawford told me all about it. He means to marry you.

EMMA WOODHOUSE:

(randomly appearing)

That is all very well; but is he certain that Miss Price means to marry him?

(EMMA gets berated for belonging to another novel and is forcibly taken away.)

SIR THOMAS:

And now, I shall give you an exact account of the business.

FANNY:

No, really, that's not necessary…

SIR THOMAS:

He said "Sir, by my troth, I wish to marry your niece." And I said "Sir, by my faith, you could not have made a better choice, or met with a warmer approbation." And he said "Sir, upon my honor, your niece is a poem, and I shall slay the villain who says otherwise. I shall love and honor her, our lives will be prosperous and good, and our house will be a little haven of harmony and joy."

FANNY:

But-

SIR THOMAS:

And then I said-

SIR THOMAS continues ad nauseaum. Eventually:

SIR THOMAS:

And so, my dear, you must come down, so that I can join your hands with tears of pride and give you both my blessing.

FANNY:

Sir, did Mr Crawford mention that I gave him a reply yesterday?

SIR THOMAS:

My dear, all we ever think about in this book is your feelings. Of course he mentioned that you gave him a reply.

FANNY:

Did he remember it?

SIR THOMAS:

Now, Fanny, you don't have to be ashamed that you said yes.

FANNY:

What?

SIR THOMAS:

I'm sure you did so in a very proper, modest manner. Besides, you have my consent.

FANNY:

That's such a relief.

SIR THOMAS:

Glad we settled that. Come down, now.

FANNY:

No! Sir, I must undeceive you. I gave Mr Crawford no encouragement yesterday; I repulsed his attentions, and I would have said still more than I did, were I sure that he was serious. I thought it might all pass for nothing with him.

Dramatic pause.

SIR THOMAS:

Do you mean to say that you mean to… (drum roll) refuse Mr Crawford?

FANNY:

Yep.

SIR THOMAS:

Refuse him?

FANNY:

Right-o.

SIR THOMAS:

Refuse Mr Crawford!

FANNY:

Uh- uh.

SIR THOMAS:

Refuse Mr Crawford?

FANNY:

You got it.

SIR THOMAS:

Are you out of your f***g mind? He has heaps of money! His sister has been befriending you after everyone else left! Your relatives will be thrilled! Why would you possibly refuse Mr Crawford?

FANNY:

I don't l-

SIR THOMAS:

Say the "L" word and I'll wash your mouth with soap.

FANNY:

But, Sir, his attentions were always what I did not like.

SIR THOMAS:

Have you got the hots for any of my sons?

FANNY:

N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-no.

SIR THOMAS:

But why don't you like Mr Crawford? Mr Crawford! The man is positively God's gift to women!

FANNY:

(aside)

I can not say what I know of Mr Crawford's real character, because my cousins are involved in it. Therefore, I will remain heroically silent, and endure my uncle's wrath should it burst on my head.

SIR THOMAS:

Well?

FANNY:

(remaining heroically silent)

…

SIR THOMAS:

You will decide for yourself, then?

FANNY:

(in a small voice)

Sorry…

SIR THOMAS:

Sorry? Bloody murder! You ungrateful, two-faced, rebellious feminist!

FANNY:

Boo hoo hoo!

SIR THOMAS:

Oh great. A sobbing woman.

FANNY:

Boo hoo hoo!

SIR THOMAS:

Come, come, child. Don't cry anymore. I see that I should now do my duty as your guardian and attempt to console you. Of course, you have lost a splendid opportunity, you have made a dreadful mistake, and you have possibly condemned yourself to eternal spinsterhood.

FANNY:

(cries even harder)

Boo hoo hoo!

SIR THOMAS:

Just go to the shrubbery, alright?

FANNY:

Sniff… sob…

Exit FANNY.

SIR THOMAS:

Well, this is unaccountable. I must think of a plan. I know! I'll send her to Portsmouth! She will only be half-starved. It's all for her own good.

Exit SIR THOMAS.

Half an hour later, FANNY returns from her walk, realizes that she now has room heating, and is overpowered with gratitude at being treated like a human being.

Reviews are welcome.


End file.
